


No Return

by HewerOfCaves



Series: Canon Divergence AU [3]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Brotherly Love, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 11:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HewerOfCaves/pseuds/HewerOfCaves
Summary: A star shone brightly through the mist. Maedhros averted his gaze, staring at the mellow fire Fingon had built with some help from Maglor.“You have to go back,” he told Fingon.In which long conversations are had and nothing gets resolved.





	No Return

**Author's Note:**

> You will probably need to read the first two parts to understand what the hell's going on here. 
> 
> Not a native speaker, not beta'd.

Fingon brought the waterskin close to Maedhros’s lips, gripping it tightly with his permanently shaking hands. Maedhros supported it with his right arm and took a few sips. 

“Thank you,” he said, leaning his head back.

Beleriand was still going down in fire and thunder, but a few stars were shimmering even through the shroud of smoke.

They had been moving east for a few days, eager to leave the crumbling lands, but forced to stop often for rest. Fingon had insisted on following them and had taken upon himself the tasks of healing and hunting. He had little success in both endeavors.

The burns on Maedhros and Maglor’s hands showed no sign of healing, or if they did, it was very slow. Even the slightest movement of a finger hurt them to the point of feeling faint. But they were clean and bandaged and their arms had been put in slings.

Hunting with a sword or a dagger proved difficult for Fingon with his shaking hands, bad leg and sudden, crippling headaches. They survived on herbs, berries and mushrooms. Maedhros and Maglor were used to it, and Fingon was used to worse and welcomed the change with unconcealed joy and surprise. 

A star shone brightly through the mist. Maedhros averted his gaze, staring at the mellow fire Fingon had built with some help from Maglor. 

“You have to go back,” he told Fingon.

Maglor curled up on himself, his injured hand cradled in his lap. Fingon looked fondly at Maedhros.

“We have talked about this, Russandol,” he said, “I remember that much.”

They had. Incessantly. Whenever Maedhros had mentioned it, Fingon had only shaken his head and said, “I would rather come with you. I remembered you.”

“You have to,” Maedhros insisted, “They will take you back to Valinor. You remember Valinor, don’t you? Do you remember Tirion? You will heal there. You will be safe.”

“What about you?” Fingon asked, “If you two come with me, I will go.”

Maedhros hunched his shoulders and said nothing. Instead, Maglor spoke.

“It is too late for us,” he said, failing to keep the resentment out of his voice, “We burnt the last bridge when we attacked the camp of the Valar.”

Fingon put his hand on Maedhros’s shoulder and squeezed it slightly. “I will stay with you,” he said.

“Fingon, you can’t,” Maedhros said, “Listen to me, you must go back. Your mother is waiting for you in Valinor, Findekáno. Go back to her.”

Maglor glanced at him sharply. They had decided to let Fingon remember his past on his own, afraid that too many memories might overwhelm him. Maedhros avoided his brother’s gaze, instead looking at Fingon, whose hands were shaking worse than before.

“My mother,” he said slowly, “Yes, I had-I have a mother. I hadn’t thought of it until now.”

“Yes,” Maedhros said, “Do you remember her? Lady Anairë? She loved you very much.”

“I... remember that she-she had long hair. I loved watching her brush and braid it. When she was finished, I would ask her to braid mine the same way. She would laugh and do it. She would put jewels in it and-and flowers. I remember lying on the bed, looking at her long braids that almost brushed the floor when she was sitting, and waiting for my turn. I was singing something, I cannot remember what, and she started singing with me and she was laughing, and I was happy.”

“You can be again. You can return to her, to your mother.”

“I have a mother,” Fingon repeated, “And I have a father too...”

He looked at Maedhros for confirmation. Maedhros nodded once.

“He was...” Fingon frowned in concentration, chasing fleeting memories. “He was... safe. He made me feel safe. And he was kind.” 

“Yes, he was,” Maedhros said quietly, “He was also wise and valiant.”

“He is gone,” Fingon said. He didn’t sound doubtful this time.

“You might see him yet. He might come back from the Halls and you will see him again. You will see everyone that you love. Your sister, Irissë, remember her? And your brother...”

“Maybe we should stop the walk down the memory lane for tonight,” Maglor interrupted.

“And your brother, Turukáno,” Maedhros went on, “You will see them all.”

Fingon gasped when he heard Turgon’s name. “Turukáno,” he repeated, “My brother... That’s-that’s what he wanted... His city. He couldn’t find it.” He looked desperately at Maedhros. “The city. Does it stand?”

“Gondolin is no more,” Maedhros said.

“Did you...”

Maglor snorted.

“It was Morgoth,” Maedhros said.

Fingon trembled and hid his face behind his hands. Maedhros tried to reach for him, but pain shot up through his left hand. He bit back a scream, paling. Maglor moved to stand, but Maedhros shook his head and Maglor sat back.

“Findekáno,” Maedhros said.

Fingon shook his head. “That was what he wanted,” he whispered, “He wanted to know where the city was. He asked me and I said I did not know. He didn’t believe me. He kept asking it every time. I don’t remember everything. I-I don’t remember what I told him later. Maybe I told him. Maybe I betrayed my brother. Maybe he found the city because of me.”

“You couldn’t have told him,” Maedhros said, “You had no idea where Gondolin was.”

Fingon looked at him hopefully. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“You would have told me that you knew. We hid nothing from each other.”

“Are you telling me the truth, Russandol?”

“I never lie to you.”

His tone left no room for argument. Fingon’s shoulders relaxed. 

“So what do you say?” Maedhros asked, “Maglor and I will accompany you to the camp. We should set out as soon as possible. Tomorrow morning would be ideal.”

Fingon smiled at him. “I will not leave you,” he said.

Maedhros kicked some dirt into the fire in frustration. “I cannot believe you, Fingon, why are you so stubborn?” he cried. Fingon flinched, terror filling his eyes instantaneously. Maedhros’s look mirrored his. “I am sorry,” Maedhros said, “I should not have shouted. I am so sorry. There is nothing to fear, Findekáno, it is only me.”

Fingon looked at him wildly for a moment, then his eyes cleared up and he bowed his head. “Russandol?” he said, “I did not mean to anger you.”

“You did not, oh, Findekáno, I am so sorry. I only want you to be safe, to go to Valinor where you can heal. You cannot stay with us. You know who we are and what we have done. The wrath of the Valar lies upon us wherever we go and I will not have you suffer again because of it.”

Fingon rubbed his temples. “I will stay,” he said.

Maedhros took a deep breath. “Did you understand what I said?” he asked, keeping his voice level, “Do you realize...”

“Enough,” Maglor said quietly.

Maedhros stared at him. 

“He said he wants to stay,” Maglor continued.

“If you are jesting, it is not the time or the place for it,” Maedhros said furiously, “You keep silent whenever I try to convince him and now that you speak, you take his side. He cannot stay with us, you must understand.”

Maglor said nothing. Maedhros looked from him to Fingon. “None of you understands,” he said, struggling to his feet. He walked into the forest without looking back. Fingon stood and made to follow him, but Maglor shook his head.

“Leave him,” he said.

Fingon hesitated but sat back, his eyes darting often to the trees Maedhros had disappeared behind.

“Don’t worry, he will come back,” Maglor said.

“I am afraid,” Fingon confessed quietly, “He was-when I found him, the look in his eyes... I knew that look. He was going to jump into the fire.” 

“I know,” Maglor said, “But he didn’t.”

“He still has that look sometimes.”

“He will come back.”

Fingon nodded. He turned away from the fire and rested his head on his knees.

“Headache?” Maglor asked.

Fingon nodded again, biting his lip.

“Lie down,” Maglor said.

Trying to keep his sling still, he went to the stream burbling nearby and dampened a rag in it. Returning, he sat next to Fingon and placed the cold cloth on his forehead. Fingon whispered a few words of gratitude and huddled up closer to Maglor, pushing the back of his head against his thigh. Maglor ran the fingers of his left hand through his cousin’s short, messy hair. 

“You sing, right?” Fingon asked suddenly, “Your songs had power.” When Maglor stayed silent, he winced. “I’m sorry, that was probably someone else, I don’t always remember correctly.”

“No, it was me,” Maglor said, “Do you want me to sing for you?”

A moment of hesitation.

“Would you?”

“Yes.”

He sang a song to soothe pain. He had not done it for a long time. It didn’t help his burns, but soon Fingon was sleeping peacefully, his eyes half-open. Maglor stretched, bone-tired, as he always was after singing songs of power. He lay down beside Fingon, humming to stay awake. That was how Maedhros found them.

Maglor sat up when his brother returned. Maedhros sank next to him, his face pale and drawn. He looked like one who had died and had not noticed it yet. Maglor remembered Fingon’s words and shuddered.

“Is he sleeping?” Maedhros asked.

Maglor nodded. “His headache started again,” he said. “You should not have told him all those things,” he added after a pause.

“What else can I do to convince him to leave?” Maedhros said, “You know I am right. How can you speak against it?”

“How do you know they will take him back to Valinor? He was in Alqualondë. He rebelled. How do you know they will not forbid him from returning?”

“They cannot be so cruel.”

Maglor looked down at his bandaged hand. “I have to wonder. You are willing to leave him at the mercy of the Valar, while no so long ago you were so adamant we should not surrender.”

Maedhros was silent for a long time. “I will never forgive myself for what I did and for dragging you into it against your wisdom,” he said, “But my point still stands. The Oath is vain, but is it void? Will it awaken once we are closer to Eärendil? Will we be forced to wage war against him?”

“I don’t know,” Maglor said, “All I know is that we lost our last chance at forgiveness when we attacked the camp.”

“That is why I don’t want Fingon to be tied to us.”

“He doesn’t want to leave! Don’t you understand?”

“Neither did the twins, but you still sent them away.”

Maglor pulled his hand away from Fingon’s hair before it would clench into a fist. Maedhros looked ashamed but didn’t apologize. 

“It was for the best,” Maglor said finally, choking on every word.

“I know. So is this.” When Maglor didn’t answer, Maedhros continued in a furious whisper. “You want him to stay, so he can care for us.”

“We have one functioning hand between the two of us, Nelyo, we need help if you haven’t noticed.”

“And if we are attacked? What then? Do you think Fingon is capable of holding a sword in his state? Morgoth’s creatures are not all slain, they are loose in the wild and we might encounter them yet. Every Elf in Middle-earth hates us. What will stay their hand if they come across us?”

“A High King of the Noldor! No one hates _him_.”

Maedhros shook his head. “I cannot risk it.”

“You will have to! How are you going to force him to go back if he doesn’t want to?”

“You will help me.”

“I will not!”

Fingon stirred and made an unhappy sound in his throat. Maglor stroked his hair and sang a few verses from a sleeping song until his cousin calmed again.

“He is not thinking clearly, surely you can see that,” Maedhros said, “He is following me because I am the only one he remembered without prompting. If it were his father there or his sister, he would cling to them.”

“His mind is clearer than you think,” Maglor said, “And he has made his decision.”

“You don’t care about his decision. You only want to use him. You do not love him.”

“I do love him.”

“Then why will you not help me? Don’t you see that he is unwell?”

“So are you!” Maglor said, trembling from weariness and emotion, “You cannot hide it. I know you were going to jump. I know you didn’t because of Fingon. Do you think I cannot take care of myself? I can, even with just my left. But what about you? You are still there, still standing over the edge of that chasm. One careless step or a gust of wind, and you will fall. I cannot catch you, but he can.”

Maedhros tried to talk several times, but the sounds died in his throat. Finally, he found the strength to force out the words.

“You will sacrifice him for my sake.”

“Some of us love their brothers better than their cousins.”

Maedhros’s pale face gained some color. “You are being unfair,” he said.

“Am I?”

“I love you.”

Maglor sighed. “I know that, Nelyo.”

Maedhros wrapped his right arm around Maglor’s shoulders. “I am so sorry,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against Maglor’s temple, “I am the worst brother. I should have listened to you, I should have surrendered, come what may, at least we would have seen mother one more time and you would not be in pain. Instead I forced you into it, and now there is no way back.”

Maglor slumped against his brother. “You forced me into nothing,” he said, “I could have gone against you, but I didn’t have the courage. You are my eldest brother, my commander and the head of my House, and I found it much easier just to follow you.”

“What are we going to do?” Maedhros asked, pulling Maglor closer.

“I don’t know, I don’t know. I am so tired.”

Maedhros kissed his forehead. “Lie down and sleep. I will keep watch.”

Maglor obeyed, mindful of his sling. “Wake me up in a few hours to relieve you,” he said.

“Sleep,” Maedhros said.

Maglor curled up close to Fingon and fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from the conversation and singing. Maedhros sat with his back to the fire and watched over his brother and cousin until morning came.


End file.
